I sat on a cushion in my bedroom, in darkness. I was 22 years old and like any normal kid my age I had resolved to meditate on an imaginary green triangle in my head for 45 minutes.
This was my third week of practising concentration meditation, a precursor to vipassana. The idea was to hold my focus on an object to quiet the mind. This had already resulted in tantalising bursts of rapture and bliss, but I wanted more, and felt curious about how much energy I could channel into this.